- CRITTER TALK
Regardless, I masked up and entered the clinic to find a young woman, about 20 perhaps, seated behind the frosted sliding glass counter doors. Appearing miffed she asked me why I didn’t call for an appointment? I said I had an appointment, whereupon she told me you had to have an appointment to walk into the building where you had your appointment.
Feeling like Jack Nicholson trying to order a sandwich in Five Easy Pieces, I asked this young woman how I would know to do that? In her most impatient and arrogant manner, she explained all of the information was on the door. Because I was in a good mood, I patiently explained there was no phone number on the door, and the information on the door made little sense, flashing a smile so the youngster wouldn’t think I was “yelling” at her.
She was irritated, and I was becoming irritated, and when I pointed out I was there, and the only patient in the place, the pompous Clerk Ratched set her mouth in a no-nonsense line, crinkling her forehead into a frown, telling me again rules were rules and I couldn’t enter the building for my appointment unless I had an appointment.
I grew weary of this exchange and told her I had no intention of making an appointment for my appointment as I was already in the building, and would wait until called for my real appointment, which happened almost immediately. Another young woman, looking like she belonged in High School, came out, holding a chart, and called my name, “Michael” as if she had known me for decades.
I smiled nonetheless and said that’s me, walking in behind her, heading to the dreaded scale. At this point, the irascible Clerk Ratched pointed out to the doctor-nurse that I didn’t have an appointment and had to have an appointment, whereupon the doctor-nurse said to her: “we don’t need to worry about that now.”
The angry clerk slammed the frosted doors and could be heard mumbling about rules being rules, no doubt to the nodding chorus of the rest of the clerking team.
When all was said and done, I realized I was no longer in a good mood, and, for a moment, considered talking to the nasty clerk’s supervisor, but dismissing that thought as something that would only piss me off more and I might even say ‘fuck’ which would cause me to lose the high ground, so I left the building I hadn’t made an appointment to enter in the first place.